Out of Bounds
by Cyberwolf
Summary: The High Magic has lost its hold over the Dark. HEAVILY revised versions of chapters 1 - 6 are up.
1. Dreamers Waking

_ We've seen our shares of ups and downs  
How quickly life can turn around   
In an instant  
It feels so good to reunite  
Within yourself and within your mind_  
-My Sacrifice, Creed

***

It was like waking up from a dream, only this dream had lasted for considerably more than a night's sleep; and this dream had been a waking dream, one that fogged their minds and clouded their memories for weeks and months and years – walking and sleeping, awake and not, ever since _that day_.

But now they had awoken, and broken free from the world they had lived in – the world without the Dark and the Light. And to them, the odd thing was not the sudden influx of knowledge and memories - not the sudden readjustment of priorities, so that exams that had been so important last week seemed trivial next to swords in lost cities and Midsummer trees and holy grails – it was the fact that they could have forgotten everything in the first place. 

Without any communication beforehand, without any surprise at all when it did happen, they met up at Charing Cross train station on that bright fall morning. The three Drew siblings arrived first, of course, and nearly all at once – eighteen-year-old Simon, his brown hair cut neat and short, broad-shouldered but appearing lanky due to his remarkable height; seventeen-year-old Jane, looking very much like the adult lady she was destined to be, poised and elegant and lovely; and fifteen-year-old Barney, slender and relatively short (much to his annoyance), his blond hair tied in a shoulder-brushing ponytail. 

Bran Davies arrived next, not as tall as Simon but nearly as broad-shouldered, his frame filled out with smoothly-round muscles. He was as colorless as ever, with his pale translucent skin and utterly white hair, and his golden eyes – the only real bits of color in his face – still hidden by sunglasses, much as they had been when he was younger. They all shook hands and exchanged small talk as they waited – but they had never really been friends, not having known each other long enough. They were comrades-in-arms, but their only real common link was through the boy named Will Stanton. 

He was not the next to arrive; rather, it was the fierce old gentleman called Merriman. He had not changed at all in the years since they last saw him, walking off the edge of the earth into another world. Jane abandoned her elegance to throw herself at him, hugging him tightly. When she stepped away, Barney, who had never quite lost his boyish innocence, took his older sister's place. Simon, older and more self-aware, didn't -- but his enthusiastic handshake showed that all three of the Drews had missed their great-uncle very much. 

Bran, after the first enthusiastic greetings of the Drews were done, stepped up to the eagle-featured man and offered his hand. Instead, Merriman met his gaze forthrightly and then slowly and solemnly bowed to the teenager. It was not a very deep bow, nor one especially elaborate, but it showed a measure of respect – an awareness of the importance of the white-haired boy in front of him. 

"Your lord father sends his greetings and best wishes, Bran." 

Bran returned the bow in kind. "Thank you." 

They went on the train. Neither Bran nor any of the Drews had bought tickets, but Merriman had. They did not know where the train was bound for, but that matter was for the moment pushed aside for the bigger questions: Why were they there? Why had they remembered? 

They were settled and seated in a spacious compartment by the time any of them broached the subject. Barney, characteristically blunt, asked the questions straight out. The door was locked, and the last people they had seen were two compartments down, so the others felt safe in demanding their own answers. 

Merriman passed a hand over his face, as if weary; and that action, the fatigued and tired look of it, began to bring the first slivers of fear into their hearts. Before, they had been curious, and half-glad, in being given back memories of a time which had been as joyous and glorious as some parts of it were darkly terrifying. It was like being given the chance to look again at a particularly wonderful storybook which they thought had been locked away forever. Now they realized that perhaps the reason they had begun to remember was because something was wrong. 

The tale Merriman related to them as the train steadily rumbled its way down the tracks was one puzzling and worrying and mysterious, with the threat of horrifying things lurking ever in the background. Somehow – he knew not how, and this brought a type of fear into them that had been absent the first time – the Dark had broken free of the bonds the High Magic placed on them. They had, so far as the Light could tell, simply vanished from sensing or knowledge. 

And so, until it could be proven beyond doubt that the Dark had broken the bounds, only he was allowed back – the rest of the Old Ones, the Things of Power, the Riders of the Light, King Arthur and his forces – all lay still beyond man's reach or aid in the corridors of Untime. 

They fell silent, confronted by the image of an unknown Dark somehow, impossibly, unbound by the Laws of the Universe 

"But…Gumerry…you must have at least considered the Dark breaking free. I mean, you left a Guardian here for us…you left Will…" Jane said, haltingly. 

Gumerry nodded. "Yes, Will…my young watchman." A faint smile touched the edges of his lips. Jane, watching, suddenly thought about what Will was to Gumerry. Merriman was the affectionate, protective great-uncle of the Drews, and he was the devoted right-hand man of Bran's father, and so each of them was linked to him irretrievably; but it was _Will_ who he was closest to, Will whom he'd taught and guided and most relied on - Will Stanton, who shared so much of Merriman's own nature. 

"Will is the Light's Guardian for the earth, you're right about that, Jane. But…we never expected something like this. If at all anything happened, which we very much doubted in the first place, we expected the Dark to return to the Earth, but by using brute force to override the Laws, the High Magic, not just to disappear – so that we could have come in with all the might of both Light and High Magic behind us. We didn't expect – didn't _imagine_…this. Not _this_, not this uncertain danger, so that we aren't sure where or even when to commit our strength. Will is Guardian …but he, by himself, cannot defend the whole world against the full Dark." 

Bran spoke, then, for the first time. "Where is Will?" He leaned forward, and the lines of his body bespoke an excited sort of tension and anticipation. He missed Will, missed the only friend he had ever really had, the best friend just as close as Cafall had once been. But it was more than that – something deep in him, in the place that had sung when he drew Eirias, screamed to him that Will had to be there. That there was something missing in this puzzle of the Dark, and it had something to do with Will. 

"Will is where he's always been, at home," returned Merriman placidly. 

"He would have known if this Dark is here on Earth, since he's Watcher," said Bran. Jane didn't miss the new title the other seventeen-year-old put to Will, and the slight, probably unconscious, emphasis of it. Watcher…was this another of the things Bran just _knew_, the way he knew to pluck the Midsummer blossom and the way to wield Eirias? 

Merriman didn't miss it either, and his eyes looked a little more alert as they gazed at Bran.

"And you would have called him if you were here. So why isn't he?"

"I commend your observational skills, son of Pendragon," Merriman said. "You are right; Will is Watcher, and I _would_ have called him. Except that I cannot reach him. No, no," he hurried to reassure the stricken looks on Bran and the Drew children's faces, "It is nothing unexpected. I will not be in my full strength until tomorrow – the 'day and night' needed for someone to phase totally back into Time from the Untime. Will is quite alright."

"We're going to him, aren't we?" Jane said in a sudden flash of insight. "This train's bound for Buckinghamshire."

"Right you are, Jane," Merriman smiled at his only great-niece. "I've arranged for a rental car to await us at the station – from there we shall drive to Huntercombe, Will's village. I expect to be there by late afternoon. Now, shall we lunch? I hear the dining car is good on this line."

*** 

I love, adore, and basically worship **Susan Cooper **and her **Dark is Rising **sequence. I also like her **King of Shadows**, but it's her Dark is Rising that makes her the (to me) equivalent of a goddess. Will, Bran, Jane, Simon, Barney and Gumerry belong to her, as well as the idea of the Dark – basically, if you recognize it, it's probably hers. 

Okay, my first DiR fic. Wow. Who woulda thought? This is, by the way, not going to be one of those fics that people say truly carry on the spirit of the original books. First of all, I can't write the way Cooper writes. All those little British-isms. I _ wish_ I could, but I can't. And the plot doesn't follow the usual plots. But still, I hope you like it.

Next chapter: We meet up with Will Stanton. 

*** 

finished the revision **October 23, 2003** – the day after my first set of college finals. Yay! ^_^ 


	2. Standing in Shadows

_Hello, my friend  
We meet again  
It's been a while since you let me in  
Feels like forever  
_ -Creed

The car, a dark-blue sedan, was waiting as expected in the train station. Together they piled into it, along with a half-dozen sandwiches and that many bottles of ginger ale to serve as an on-the-road tea. Merriman drove, despite newly-licensed Simon's pleas.

Here, in the quiet beauty of the countryside, with music on the radio and food and drink lying pleasantly in the stomach, they could feel much happier then they had in the train – almost, though not quite, forgetting what Merriman had told them. They talked, and joked, sang along with the radio – though only Jane had anything near a passable singing voice. It was possible that Merriman had, but if so, he certainly wasn't telling. 

The car rolled through the streets of Huntercombe, London-bred Drews and Welsh Bran half-staring at this piece of traditional English countryside. Merriman drove with certainty of his position and his destination, without pausing to orient himself or to ask directions; within twelve minutes they were out of the village.

Simon twisted around in his shotgun seat, staring over the heads of the three younger teenagers as the buildings of Huntercombe receded with distance in the back windshield. "Gumerry, where are we going? I thought you said Will lived here?" 

"Yes, he does. Perhaps I forgot to mention that the Stanton house is rather on the outskirts of Huntercombe. Practically in the countryside already."

"I did hear Will telling John Rowlands that he wasn't exactly a city-boy…" mused Bran. 

"Will's home does not exactly qualify for a farm either, but yes, there are chickens and livestock there as well." 

"I thought his father was a jeweller," Jane put in. Her brothers and Bran looked a little surprised. They hadn't known that. They shot questioning looks at each other, and then at Jane. 

"He…made something for me, once," Jane explained. Barney and Bran nodded, satisfied. The beginnings of a frown began to etch into Simon's face. 

"Or maybe, I should say, for the Greenwitch," elaborated Jane. The frown disappeared from Simon's face. 

"His father is one, actually a rather good one, but it's his mother who runs the Stanton 'Farm'," Merriman told them. 

Bran was seated at the right edge of the rear seat, next to Barney. His arm was braced on the window-ledge, his face cupped in his hand. He stared at the scenery rolling past with half-closed eyes, not really registering the land they passed. He was thinking about something else…thinking about the slight edge of…something not so wild as panic, not so quiet as apprehension, but something like the two…that had been in him since meeting up with Merriman. 

Which is why he only barely knew it when it happened. He saw a figure standing by the roadside, and…instantly, without question, that deep in him singing/screaming out… 

"Stop the car!" 

Startled, Merriman braked. Almost before he had, Bran had hurled himself out of the car and was running towards the figure. Barney and Simon stared in mute surprise for a second before hearing Jane's surprised gasp. 

"That's Will!" 

"What?!" 

But Jane was out of the car too. 

Bran reached Will in a matter of seconds. It was strange how he had known it was Will – the boy's face was hidden by the hood of his sweatshirt – but he knew. 

"Will!" he called as he ran. The boy had been facing away from the car, underneath the spreading branches of a large shade tree. He stood loose and unconcerned, dressed in blue jeans and overlarge gray sweatshirt, hands stuck in pockets. He turned at Bran's call, one hand coming out of his pockets. 

Bran grinned as he ran. _'Of course he'll have known we were coming…he's Will, isn't he, he's dewin…'_

"W…" his voice trailed off as Will used his free hand to push back his hood. 

Jane was a few steps behind Bran, running so fast she skidded when she stopped to stand right next to the Welsh boy, staring as he was at the other seventeen-year-old standing barely seven feet away from them. 

Her first thought upon seeing Will was, oddly, _ 'He's standing in shadow.'_

And then he came forward, moving beyond the shade of the tree until the pale autumn's sun was directly on him, and still the sense of shadows did not dissipate. It took several moments for Jane's mind to appreciate the fact that Will had, it seemed, darkened in every aspect. 

His hair, formerly a hue usually associated with the bark of birch trees, had deepened to a shade of brown like dark bittersweet chocolate. It fell in half-shaggy bangs over a face that had lost much of its boyish curvature, shadowing eyes that were a blue so dark they were practically black. His skin was burned brown-gold, much darker than anyone who was born and bred in England's climate had a right to be. 

And the expression on his face... 

Bran and Jane stood in startled, uneasy silence, as did Simon and Barney, who had just caught up to the sister they had chased. They stared at Will, whose darkening seemed to be more than just his coloration, at the sardonic, half-cruel expression on his face. 

"So you've actually come." The voice was light and carefree, in exactly the tone someone would use to gently chaff a friend late for an appointment. His voice had broken in the time since they had last met, into a clear tenor that seemed like his younger voice, proving Merriman wrong in his long-ago prophecy – for it held in it the same melodic pitch of his choir-boy days. It was a friendly voice, the type you want to listen to. 

And it made their hearts fall. The anger behind it, constrained so tight it was like a wire so fine that it disappeared when you looked at it edge-on – and they couldn't see the edge, but in this case, they could feel it. 

"You're here. Huh. Rather a shock. I mean, here I was, thinking that you had, you know, _forgotten_ all about me." 

…the anger's edge growing brighter now… 

"After all, it's been, what – four years? Lots of things have happened since then." He looked at Simon, just one glance. "Hey, Simon, congratulations on getting into Oxford." Then at Barney. "Well, Barney, following your mother into the art institute? Very cool. You know, my brother Max was an artist too." 

The Drew brothers shivered, a little unnerved by Will's subtle showing of power. His gaze settled on Jane and Bran. He didn't say anything but his now dark-blue eyes hardened. 

"Things have happened to me too. I suppose they've been a little different from your years, however." His mouth curved ever so slightly into a small half-smile that was somehow more hard than any glare. 

Still in the car, Merriman could feel a despair as heartwrenching as when he had first met Will, in that hall where the Lady had been taken beyond Time. _'Oh Will…Watchman, what has happened to you?'_


	3. Echoes of Angels

_ You howl and listen  
Listen and wait for  
Echoes of angels who won't return   
_ -Vertical Horizon   
*** 

Will turned his head towards the car where Merriman still sat, clutching the steering wheel so that his knuckles turned white. He bowed mockingly in the old professor's direction. 

/Hail and well-met, _darix_,/ he called in the Old Tongue. Only he and Merriman understood what he said. He had addressed Merriman as _darix,_ a word having no real equivalent in English, meaning 'first teacher' - to an Old One, the first member of the Circle who would guide them through the awakening of their power. 

That reminder of what they were to each other made the absolute, cold fury in Will's eyes as he stared at the white-haired man just the more horrible. The five teenagers stayed absolutely still as Merriman, his eyes fixed on Will's face, walked towards them. 

"Will…" he said the name as how (though only Will knew this) he had once said Hawkin's name, sad and yearning. First and Last stared at each other, one's eyes dark and angry, the other's sad but just as dark. 

The others watched as though from outside, as though through a window. They felt as if they had somehow, in that instant, become incorporeal - unable to affect the world that had come into existence around Will and Merriman. 

/So, you've finally deigned to come away from Avalon-in-the-Mists, to mingle with us _tellan_?/ Will asked his former mentor, his light tone collapsing in around the edge of anger that had been so evident in it earlier and was made even more evident now. He still spoke in the Old Tongue, using Avalon's full (in Old Tongue) name and invoking the word _tellan¸_ which was a word more often used by the Dark rather than the Light. Strictly speaking, _tellan_ meant 'those who dwell upon Earth' - it was also taken to mean 'those who are lower'. 

Merriman forewent answering Will in the same Tongue, using English for his reply. "Will…you're not _tellan._ Not to me, not to anyone." 

Will's only reply to that was a snort of derision. 

"Watchman, what have you to report?" Merriman said finally, hoping that this formal reminder of Will's place in the Circle would help snap him out of…this, since visible concern didn't seem to be working. 

Will folded his arms across his chest, half-slouching as he raised one eyebrow at the old man. "What have I to report?" he mimicked, shifting back into English. "For when, o First of the Circle?" he asked, using one of Merriman's titles as the hawk-faced man had used Will's. "This year, or last year? Which month? So much has happened since the Dark's come, it would take me days to say it all." 

The others stared at him. "Years?" Simon said hoarsely. "The Dark's been on Earth for years?" 

Will flicked a darkly-amused glance at the taller boy. "Well-done, Drew. So you _can_ listen. Yes," he continued, turning back to face Merriman, "The Dark came two years ago, on the night of the winter solstice. They spread fast…so fast…" For a moment Will's half-angry, half-mocking expression fell to reveal despair and shell-shock. There was a hollow, empty look in his blue eyes that reminded them of the gentleness he used to have – only it was gentleness now wounded and bleeding. For a moment, only, it shaded his face; then it snapped back into full anger. "I tried to stop them…but I was alone! I was all _alone_! You didn't even leave me any of the Relics – you didn't even leave me the _Signs._" 

Merriman listened to his young counterpart with pain, fighting the urge to wince at the accusation and betrayal in Will's tone. The Dark had been here for years? And Will had been the only one to fight them? No…no, it couldn't be true. He couldn't wrap his formidable mind around the concept. All the safeguards they'd so carefully discussed before leaving Will as the lone watcher of the light…they couldn't _all_ have failed… 

He jerked his memory back to the present, shaking his head. "Will…Will, I am so sorry…but we just didn't know…" 

"You didn't know?" Will interrupted brusquely, speaking through gritted teeth. "You didn't know? Then look, o Merlion, Arthur's Lion, and _know_!" With those words, he opened a mind-to-mind link with his _darix_. 

And so Merriman looked, and he saw… 

*** 

_ …Will sitting up in bed, cold sweat breaking out all over his fifteen-year-old body as he felt the Dark's sense return to the world… _

…long days of nearly splitting his head with the concentration, using his unique Watchman's powers (honed too sharp as the days went by) to pinpoint the Dark's location, knowing with growing certainty that for each manifestation of the Dark he found, each human he freed from the Dark's creeping influence, there were more who went unnoticed… 

…using his powers to combat the Dark, jumping from place to place, all over the globe, finding that the Dark could no longer manipulate time but could also null his ability to do so… 

…growing tired and pale and withdrawn with the constant war he waged… 

…seeing bloodier and gorier things than ever before, as the Dark started to manifest themselves in ever more primal and primitive ways… 

…his family growing worried about his seemingly baseless preoccupation and increasingly bad mood; and his friends growing distant as he spent less and less time with them, dedicating his life to waging a silent war... 

...the endless calls to the Circle of the Light, calling upon every name of Power that he knew, and the day when he just stopped calling... 

...darkness... 

...crying into his pillow, on those lonely nights when his Old One side could not quite suppress the fifteen-year-old boy who was a soldier in battles too large for him alone and too subtle for anyone to help... 

...blood and flames... 

...gray storms and clouded skies... 

...a house in ruins, stone licked black by burning... 

...a voice screaming 'WHERE ARE YOU?!'

*** 

The mindlink terminated abruptly - like a wrenching, rather than the gentle disengagement Merriman was more used to - and he wasn't sure if he had torn free or (more likely, considering his current powerlessness) Will had thrown him out. He stared at the younger Old One with wide eyes, hands reaching out to the tree beside him for support as he staggered, overwhelmed by the visions. 

"Gumerry!" cried Simon and Barney in unison. They leapt for their great-uncle - Simon, with his long legs, reached him first, and lent his back as support for Merriman who was, for once, looking his age. Jane and Bran stared at Will, wordlessly. 

Will looked back at them just as silently. 

Barney shattered the angry quiet as he yelled. "What did you do to Gumerry?" 

Will answered, without looking at the younger boy, "I showed him what's happened on the Earth since he's left." He paused, just a beat, and let the slightest hint of malice steal into his singer's voice. "Just like he asked for." 

Merriman regained his balance and shrugged off his grand-nephew's support. "I'm alright, Simon, Barney; no need to worry..." He paused and then directed his words to Will. "Will," he said again, quietly. "I am sorry." The words carried in them a depth of sympathy and understanding that had not been so complete before the mindlink. Further, they carried the invisible overtones of a subtle Old One communication - not quite the telepathy that had been Will's first formal taste of the power within him - but something similar to it, an added dimension to the words, an added dimension to show Merriman's true apology for circumstances being beyond his control, for not being there for his former student. 

Will's back stiffened, and he looked as if for reply he was going to continue his angry yelling. And then suddenly he threw his head up, in a way that reminded Bran strongly of the way Cafall seemed to sniff storms coming. He fisted his hands and turned to stare into the south, away from them. 

"What is it?" Bran asked his friend - for despite the less-than-average welcome Will had given them, that was how he thought of the dark-haired boy - but Will didn't act as if he heard. It was Merriman who answered, sounding strangely calm as even his reduced abilities flared at the advent. 

"It's the Dark." 

***

July 24 2002 

AN: I just wanted to say thank you thank you thank you to everyone for their feedback. This is one of the nicest fandoms I've ever come across. Oh, and I'm sorry if you've emailed me and I haven't replied - I'm out of the country right now, and haven't had access to the Net as much as I'm used to. 

So how'd you like the newest chapter? Notice that the opening quote is no longer from Creed (I was on a Creed kick when I wrote the last two parts) I know it's short, but I just had to end it there. ^_^ I love cliffhangers. 

Next chapter: our first glimpse of the new facets of the Dark; and our first action sequence. 

*** 

Revision completed October 5, 2003 

Basically I fixed the structure of a bunch of sentences that were bothering me, took out certain things that didn't really correspond to the new plot I was planning... not much in this chapter, I'll be editing the later chapters more thoroughly. 

I tried to cut down Will's 'I was ALONE' speech, and link his reasons more firmly to Merriman's guilt, and also put in reminders that he really did use to be the Will from the original series, and is not some totally new Cyberwolf character whom she inserted into the DiR world while stealing Will's name. Have I succeeded?


	4. Dark's Advent

_By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand,  
Lonely from the beginning of time until now  
Trees fall, the grass goes yellow with autumn  
I climb the towers to watch over the barbarous land_   
-Rihaku

*** 

It's amazing how focused a person's mind can get when it's needed. 

When, for example, danger is approaching. 

Will had heard soldiers call it 'being in the zone'. They talked of not seeing anything else, of forgetting fears and apprehensions and anything that might have stopped them from doing what they had to; of minds working faster and better than normally, recalling lessons long since buried in the back reaches of memory, of reflexes sharper than ever and of exhaustion being swept away. What less could an Old One, with a mind deeper than human, do? 

Will clenched his fists at his sides, closing his eyes as he pushed out with his mind - probing, testing, tasting/smelling/seeing the fabric of reality - looking for the signature 'ripples', like heat-wavers in desert air, that proximity to the Dark brought. He found them fairly quickly, with senses honed by two years of this sort of searching, and saw that they were moving. Quite rapidly. In their direction. 

_'My first hour back and they converge like vultures on a corpse,'_ Will thought sourly. He was relying on his Old One senses more than on his mundane ones now, eyes shut tightly and using his mind to receive images. To his back, the senses of the others of the Six blazed brightly - the Six had always had a brighter glow than most, even Merriman with his reduced power - but he shunted that information off to the side, not regarding their presence as a factor in the upcoming battle - except perhaps, to be casualties. Will swore under his breath as the thought occurred to him. Maybe he could freeze them, catch them out of Time so that nothing the Dark did would affect them - no, he remembered with a pang, that wouldn't work. 

***

_'Will?' _

Two big gray eyes looking up at him from a pale face, blond ringlets like a porcelain doll's framing her cheeks. 

'Don't worry...this will be over soon...' 

A floating figure, frozen within Time, in a column of light... 

A short woman, hair a vibrant red that seemed too...alive...for someone whose eyes were so flat and colorless...She pointed her fingers at the column of light, a smirk creasing her face as she shouted out a single word. 

The column exploded into shards of brilliance, the pieces of light disintegrating as they flew like shattered glass. 

And on the floor, face a pale shade that bespoke bloodlessness, neck crooked at too extreme an angle... 

*** 

Will gave his head a sharp shake, just one, tearing himself away from memory. He chewed furiously on the problem for a moment, his mind humming away solutions and probabilities. With another whispered curse, he came to the conclusion that the only thing he could do to keep them safe was to end the upcoming confrontation so quick that the Dark had no chance to get near the Six. He stretched out his senses, looking for the ripples again. He found the waverings in the fabric of reality, more quickly than before, and 'tacked' his mind to them. He refined his focus, gritting his teeth slightly as the reaction headache began to kick in. There were...four of them. And they were relatively low on the new hierarchy of the Dark that he had just recently figured out...fifth-tier, maybe, or sixth-tier about to advance. Not that much advancement happened within the ranks of the Dark - the ones above always tried to keep the ones below where they were. Or else render them unable to advance. 

Will approved whole-heartedly of this practice. 

He pulled his mind back, satisfied with what he had found. He grinned ferally, standing straighter as the last strains of his reaction headache faded away. He should have trusted more in his warding skills. Only four? And low-level, at that? They must not know he was there. They must have been homing in on the signatures of four teenagers, more of the track than of the Circle, and an Old One still not fully in his power. Dark blue eyes flared like searchlights from beneath sapphire glass. 

They would die for their mistake. 

*** 

"It's the Dark." 

Bran snapped around to stare at Merriman at those words, as did Barney and Simon. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jane shiver quietly. 

The Dark is coming. It yammered around his head like ball bearings in an empty box. Memories of what he had been made his hand drop to his belt, where a sword would hang, before he snatched it up again. He wasn't the Pendragon. He'd never again be the Pendragon - he'd given that chance up when he'd refused to sail with his father. And the Sword That Blazed wasn't his to wield any longer. 

He didn't regret the decision, as he hadn't when he'd made it. After all, Avalon wasn't his home - and his father...wasn't his father. He hadn't been the one who raised him, who sent him to school, who stayed up with him when nightmares wracked his childish world. Still...that didn't keep him from wishing... 

He moved a little closer to Merriman. The old man was staring into the sky as Will was - Bran felt that it would be safer to be next to someone who knew what was happening. He glanced once to Will. 

*** 

Jane watched - half-confused, half-apprehensive - as Will wheeled away from them to stare into empty sky. She heard her grand-uncle's quiet words, and felt a cold shiver run down her back, like someone dropping an ice-cube down her shirt. Only...worse. 

The Dark. 

Until now it hadn't fully sunk in that they would be required to face the Dark again. She had spent most of her mental facilities just getting over the shock of suddenly remembering, and then seeing Will so changed, so different...but now the full reality of the situation slammed into the seventeen-year-old girl. For a moment, she had fleeting, wistful thoughts of the days when her biggest concern had been her grades, her upcoming debates, and what college to go to. She shook the thoughts away, angry at herself. What good were grades and college if the world was overrun by Darkness? 

Quickly, almost unconsciously, her eyes sought out Will, fixing on him like he was a touchstone to give luck. He stood stiffly, forehead lined like he was in pain. Jane, forgetting the flash of unease she had felt upon seeing him for the first time in five years, took a step nearer. And then his eyes snapped open, and Jane's hand flew to her mouth. Will's eyes...weren't eyes. The irises and whites had disappeared; only sheer light remained in their place, dancing like blue flames. Two blue flames behind his eyes, two blue flames that had burned out his eyes…Jane shivered. 

He grinned, a baring of teeth white against darkened skin and more reminiscent of a snarl than of any expression of mirth. His mouth moved, forming words, voice too low and quiet for Jane to hear. 

And then Will disappeared. 

***

July 26 2002 

Ooh, this REALLY is short, ain't it? Well, it was actually meant to be the intro to what is now going to be the next chapter...but the tone changed drastically so I thought it best that I split it up. Dinna worry - the next chapter is in production. And it will buck the trend of these ever-shortening parts and be longer, I swear. 

As you may have noticed, I mentioned some things about the new Dark here. First is that they can't play with Time. And while Will still CAN, in battle they can stop him doing so. Second is that they have a hierarchy. Yes, the Dark is composed of more individual things/beings/people now. Will the Rider make an appearance? Eh, wait and see, wait and see! ^_^ 

I made Jane into a debater. Barney's an artist, and Simon...um, either rugby or football (not American football). Bran...well, I'm not sure yet. Anyone want to give any suggestions? 

'Going jash' is my own expression. 

And, as always, please read and review. (hugs everyone) It's because of your reviews I've been able to write this new chapter quickly. (Believe me, for me two days is quickly) And DdraigCoch, thanks for your offer. If you want, you can email me anything you notice 'off' about Bran (our darling lil Welsh boy) or suggestions to make him more real. I would really like it if you do. 

Thankies again to all! 

***

July 30 

Revised version of 'Advent' is up! ^_^ (beams) Actually, there isn't that much change, really: I fixed that error Ashura saw (thanks for pointing it out!) And you guys reviewed! (sniffles) I feel so loved.... 

It's become a sort of tradition (mostly in HP fics, has anyone noticed that?) to answer the reviews in the story part; so I'm gonna try to keep up with that. I'm only gonna answer the reviews for this chapter, though. 

**Ashura**: thanks for pointing out the error. I'm glad you liked what I've done with Bran. Will's my favorite character, but I'm trying to write stuff about the other characters too – and Bran is definitely one of the most interesting. 

**The Winds of Flame**: (curious) What's Clear Eye? About 'going jash': 'it's cool' Really? I spent ten minutes trying to think up a word for it. ;) it's definitely saved Will's life more'n once...and now Will's bigger problem is trying to NOT let the battle-mentality take over him. About Jane: be gentle! She's just one from the Track! Please don't let your Black Riders kill her – I sort of need her alive for the story! ^_^ ****

Gramarye: there, there.... (hands out Kleenex) Next chapter, a long one, is currently in production. BTW – any plans for a DiR/anything crossover? I love how you've done the HP and SM ones. Especially the SM one. I mean, before I read your work I would have swore there wasn't any way to make such a crossover work – but you did! ****

Mai: There was actually a time when I didn't like the Drews – during Greenwitch, when they were so mean to cute lil Will-chan. ****

Wolfie (Cyberwolf's muse, who looks like a small black wolf puppy): Cute...lil...Will-chan? (looks at Cyberwolf's dark angry Will Stanton) ****

Cyberwolf: Urusai. >_

Alana Lee: Yeah, Bran does seem sort of the artsy type, don't he? But harp is John Rowland's...what do you think of a guitarist Bran? And vocalist? As with Mai, thanks for the remark about the characterization. Balm to a nervous fanfic-writer's soul. ^_^ And next chapter will be out soon, I swear. ****

Caitie: Awww...(blushes) Thanks! ****

Wolfie: Now you'll give her a swelled head. ****

Cyberwolf: Hush, you. (lovingly stuffs Wolfie's head into a bag) Now, where were we? Oh yeah – on your favorite author's list? I agree that it's a compliment....and I'm rather shocked you have one. Most authors on ff.net don't bother to make one. ^_^ Hey, I've seen you on the Tamora Pierce list! (checks Caitie's page) You wrote that funny essay on Obedience and how the Pierce characters don't use it much! I laughed so hard when I read it...now I have to check out your other stories. 

*** 

October 5 2003 

And yet another revision. This makes it, what, Advent v.1.3? or Advent v.3? Hmm... Again, just a little tweaking here and there. I took out that 'jash' phrase (i've been making up entirely too many words for this fic) and put in a real-life phrase. 


	5. Fire and Ice

_ Some say the world will end in fire  
Some say in ice  
From what I know of desire  
I hold with those who favor fire  
But if it had to perish twice  
I think I know enough of hate  
To know that for destruction ice  
Is also great  
And would suffice  
_

-Robert Frost 

*** 

Everyone has rules they live by. 

There are laws, the framework of society, the pillars of civilization - in ideal times, the true ruler of a people, over any head of state. 

There is religion, the acknowledgment of forces greater and beyond man's understanding - something to believe in for those things where there is nothing but belief to hold. 

There are expectations, ambitions passed on by others or grabbed onto by oneself, goals to strive for and to dream about and to dictate to what end lives were lived. 

There is honor, a standard to which one adheres, a line which one does not pass - in order to carry oneself with dignity, in order to be able to face oneself in the mirror. 

And then there is the code of survival - the rules formulated through nothing but living and experiencing – when one learns what works and what does not, what one should do and what one shouldn't do in order to live, to thrive, to survive - the code unhampered by morals or popular consensus or consideration for others. 

Will had been a good citizen of the United Kingdom. He'd obeyed the laws. He'd professed loyalty. He'd loved his nation. 

Will had been a good Anglican. He'd gone to services faithfully. He'd said his prayers every night - he'd even been a choir-boy in his church. 

Will'd had a goal and he'd worked for it - and if saving the world and keeping it saved was a bit more than most boys kept as dreams, Will rather thought he'd done a decent job at it. 

Will'd had a sense of honor - it was sort of compulsory, being an agent of Light and all. 

But now all that was superceded by Will's need to survive; and to succeed at his not-exactly-self-appointed goal of watching over the Earth and keeping it free from Darkness. In the years he'd spent fighting a solitary, almost guerilla-like war against the Dark, he'd stumbled across quite a few rules that, being followed, made his life - if not easier - longer. 

***   
_ The element of surprise is an enormous advantage._   
*** 

Will whispered a quiet incantation - one meant to hide him from all senses. It didn't work very well with Dark of the first- and second-tier, but until some of those showed up he'd stick to it. He needed to save his strength. 

Now under the blanketing influence of the spell, Will watched as the other five jumped at his sudden disappearance - well, Bran and the Drews jumped; Merriman merely nodded. Hidden within the spell, Will sneered silently. _'You don't know anything, old man.'_

The attention of the Six was drawn by four black shapes, rapidly increasing in size and definition. Will narrowed his eyes, estimating their flight-path as he heard the others gasp and point. The four had come close enough, now, to be seen. They looked like horrible parodies of animals, with too-broad chests and legs, looking like they had been twisted backwards before being jammed into their sockets, that seemed too splindly to bear their weight. They were mostly covered by sickly-glistening skin, looking raw and slick in the autumn sun, though two had a few patches of scraggly fur. Although they flew, none of them had wings - they seemed to be speeding through the air by the power of their churning legs. 

The ground was torn and rent by the force of their earthfall, their claws digging into the soil for traction. They turned their heads, growling and chittering, as they looked at the five people underneath the oak. Their eyes were uniformly pale red, like blood mixed with dirty water. Beast-like their appearance was, but clear, if manevolent, intelligence shone in those eyes. They fell silent as they began to circle the five humans, jaws open in such a manner that laughter was conveyed. They were unaware that they were themselves being circled. 

Will had moved so that he'd be to the back of the four Dark-beasts when they landed. They hadn't known he was there, of course - not even the others knew where he was, and that was how he wanted it to be. 

***  
_ Check for weakness – and attack those viciously._   
***

He moved quietly nearer, gauging their strength, trying to decide in what order he should attack them. Take that one with the black hair – he let his eyes go slightly unfocused as he looked at the Dark-beasts, a pale-red _'glow' _of sorts emerging around their twisted forms as he called on his Old One senses - yes, he'd take the one with the black hair, then move to the one near Bran. If he guessed right, the two remaining would then attack him, as long as none of the other Six tried to do anything stupid. Yes...that would work...he looked back at the group under the tree. He could_ 'see'_ the circle of warding that Merriman had invoked around them. Merriman's power may have been lessened, but he was still First of the Circle - the wards would hold them safe for as long as Will needed. 

Which really wasn't very long at all. 

***  
_Head-to-head is a stupid way to fight. The best is head-to-back - your head, their back._  
***

Will slipped out of the sense-hiding spell. All four Dark-beasts wheeled around as his presence suddenly registered in their minds. Before they could do anything, however, Will was among them. 

**_ 'Magis ceron, llande natur, fal lacht wird tain gesprun! Bereich Feuers!'*_**

Forces suddenly bent to his will, erupted, coalesced into a sphere of dark-blue flame – the same color as Will's currently light-filled eyes – in between his hands. Will grinned at the suddenly wide-eyed expression of the four Dark Ones and lobbed the fire-spell at them. They scattered (Will smirked) and the fire-sphere veered sharply in midair, homing in on its target. 

***  
_Keep the enemy feeling unsteady as much as possible_  
***

Will slipped back into the hiding-spell as the beast incinerated, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He could see the three who remained turn and turn, searching for him. Their jaws snapped restlessly at the air, triple- and quadruple-rows of fangs gleaming yellow as ropes of saliva dripped out of the gaping mouths. The ground hissed and turned black where the saliva fell. One reared into the air, long talon-like claws raking the air and leaving trails of Dark residue visible to his Old One's eyes. 

Even just moving, they polluted the world.

Those fangs couldn't hurt him. 

That acid slaver couldn't hurt him.

Those claws couldn't hurt him.

They could, however, hurt others.

So he'd just have to hurt them first.

**_ 'Ariscert eis seterod holen den eigen nicht baan. Kalter bruch!'**_**

The death-howls of the first still lingered in the air when Will phased back into their sight. The space he folded around himself was a null-magic environment, so his spells had little effect when he was 'phased out' - but Will had learned that as soon as he exited the hiding, if he'd put enough concentration into the spell, the magic would (for lack of a better term) catch up, sometimes almost instantaneously, to him. So though _he_ knew better, to everyone else it looked like he had suddenly materialized with a dozen crystalline javelins suspended in the air around him. He took the time - a nanosecond's worth, anyway - to savor their impending doom. Then he thrust his right hand at the Dark-beasts. 

***

There was a single note of music before the icicles launched. It sounded like, Jane thought half-hysterically - wondering why she was remembering this - like the time Barney had dropped one of their mother's special wine goblets on the floor. There had been a crash, and then a tinkling, of all the now-shattered pieces of crystal hitting the marble floor. If you isolated the sound of one piece of crystal - yes - that would be exactly the sound...

...no, though, on second thought, it was higher and thinner... 

...thin and clear, like diamonds turned into sounds, like diamonds... 

...like the way the sunlight glanced off those giant shards of ice as they flew through the air, like light being refracted through a prism... 

Her thoughts were going all jumbled. But it was better to try and grope for half-formed ideas than have to focus on the way those...things... 

A scream tore the air as a lance of ice buried itself within the chest of one of the bestial-looking creatures. Its scream turned into wet, hacking coughs as blood began to bubble up through its mouth. 

Will appeared again, in that strange way he'd been phasing in and out of reality. His fingers flashed in a quick-flickering pattern, and the icicles shimmered into non-existence. Their effects remained, however - one of the beasts now limped on three legs, its fourth one now just a bloody stump that had been sheared cleanly off by one of Will's icicles. The other was sitting down on its haunches, head bent to its side as it licked at a huge gash. And that last one... 

Jane averted her eyes. 

In averting her eyes, she found she was looking directly at her grand-uncle. Who was, in turn, looking directly at the young Sign-Seeker with an expression that was partly horrified and partly angry - and very upset. 

***  
_ Move as much as possible. Try not to stay in one place. Anything in a fixed location can be taken with proper resources._   
****

Will phased out after launching his ice-spell, just long enough to move to another location, negating the risk of a pain-maddened Dark-beast jumping at where he had been. He phased back in once he was a respectable distance away and summoned the icicles back. They'd done their job - no point in expending energy to keep them within the Earth-plane. He looked at the two remaining Dark-beasts. Both injured - good. Originally he'd meant to kill the one with another fire-spell, but decided that, considering the elemental alignment, an ice-spell would be better. 

The Dark-beast with four functioning legs leapt at him, howling in rage. Will sidestepped away at precisely the correct moment so that it couldn't stop or correct its flight. As it sailed past him, still snarling and unaware of the fact that the intended prey had moved away, Will snapped out a command. 

**_ 'Einascher!' ***_**

The Dark One suddenly burst into blue flame. It twisted in mid-air, its howl of rage turning into a more keening sound as it landed heavily on its side, legs out and thrashing as the fire spread. Two seconds after Will had cast his second fire-spell, all that remained of the Dark-beast was a pile of ashes that emitted a truly foul stench. 

Will turned his gaze towards the last surviving member of the four, knowing full well the effect his fire-dancing eyes had on Dark Ones. Sure enough, the Dark-beast cringed, its whimpers a pathetic contrast to its earlier growls, as Will came nearer. 

There was a blurring around the edges of the Dark-beast's form, and a sudden smell of rotten eggs. Where once a Dark-beast cowered now trembled a human. The man was tall and blond-haired, hand clasped over a bloody side. He stretched out a hand in supplication. "Please," he gasped, voice weak, "…please…" 

Will looked at him in disgust. Were they trying _that_ old ploy on him again? True, in the beginning it had been hard for Will to kill Dark Ones in human guise. But that had been a long time ago. He'd learned since then. 

__ You'd think they'd figure out I'd gotten over that.

He raised his hand, palm towards the bleeding 'man'. 

**_ 'Einascher!'_**

With a scream of agony, very human in tone and pitch but with the strange harmonics of the Dark-beast's voice underneath it, the Dark One burned as his comrade had just seconds ago. The flames consumed his frailer body more quickly, and soon nothing was left but ashes. 

Will smirked, lowering his still outstretched arm. He rolled his shoulders back, delighting in the feel of the battle-rush that always accompanied fights. And killing Dark Ones, of course, had its own pleasure. 

He turned suddenly at the feel of a hand on his shoulder, berating himself as he leapt back. His tense stance relaxed slightly as he saw that the one who had startled him was Merriman. His eyes strayed past the old man to the other four teenagers standing behind the professor, their eyes wide and gaping as they looked at Will. But his gaze was drawn back to his _darix's _face, noting the dark eyes blazing at him. 

"Where did you learn the War Spells?" 

*** 

August 8, 2002

And here, ladies and gentlemen, is the first battle sequence in Out of Bounds. One of the first battle sequences I've written in quite a while. How'd I do? My specialty's not fighting. ^^;; 

I'm a huge fan of anime, so, um, fighting scenes might be somewhat non-Susan-Cooper-ish. What can I say? I like Slayers and Sorcerous Stabber Orphen. ^_^ And I like flashy, elemental, fireball-lobbing icicle-throwing fights. 

The spells Will says are not really speech. What I did was write the spells in English (for a different, original story) and then translate it into a foreign language (using Altavista – that engine's pretty dang good) and then mangle the now-translated words into unidentifiable gibberish. The original English spells are as follows: 

**_*Magic's force, nature's flame, for battle's sake be bound in twain! Fire's Sphere! _**

**Arctic ice, silver death, bring eternal stillness. Coldbreak! 

***Incineration! 

Remember the golden rule of fanfic: 

Reviews=chapters. ^_^ 

*** 

Revisions completed October 11, 2003, while watching a series of presentations my class at college was giving. Ours hurt. I couldn't bear to watch. 

(cough) ANYWAY, lots of tweaking as usual (I cannot believe the structure of some of this stuff) and revising Will's _ rules_ a little. Also removed all mention of the Astral Plane, as that will no longer be any part of my story.

A thought just entered. Will's policy regarding the Dark Ones (I'll just have to hurt them first!) seems awfully like Bush's regarding Iraq. Does that say a lot about our new Will...or about Bush? Hmmm. ^_^ 

*** 


	6. Uneasy Truce

_And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us._  
-the Lord's Prayer

*** 

Will met the dark hawk's-gaze steadily, his own flame-filled eyes beginning to return to a more human-seeming state. His reply was deliberately toned and precise in its pronunciation, as if Will wanted to be very sure that Merriman heard and understood every nuance of every syllable. 

"Your precious Gramarye isn't the only repository of Knowledge." 

Merriman's glare sharpened. "Where did you learn them, Watchman?" His voice was stern and commanding, very much a lord and leader speaking to an errant subject. 

Will's answer was swift, almost flip. He seemed to know that the words would infuriate Merriman, delighting in the sight of his darkening face. 

"From the Akla tan Sunda'lo." 

"The…what?" Barney asked, puzzling over the unfamiliar words. 

"The Akla tan Sunda'lo," repeated Will. "It means Book of Soldiers." 

"The Akla is _diso_*," Merriman said, his voice sharp. "And there was reason. Those spells were never meant for this world! Lives were lost in order to seal them – they were dangerous! What gives you the right to break those seals – to use those _abominations_? No need is…" 

Will's eyes narrowed. "I earned the right to use them when you left me here as Earth's only defense against their return. I earned the right when the Dark lost High Magic bounds." He switched to the Old Speech - its more formalized and ritual cadences better suited his final word. 

I earned the right by blood and battle and baptism of fire.> 

Unconsciously, his right hand gripped his forearm. He returned to English – the others needed to hear what he had to say. "They can _kill_, Merriman. They could kill _me_. And when I die, Earth doesn't really have a defense. So I need to kill them first." 

"Even other humans?" Merriman asked icily. "Nothing too great to stand in the way? No such thing as innocence?" 

"That thing wasn't human, no matter how it looked," Will said, kicking the pile of ashes that had once been the tall blond man. A cloud of dark gray rose into the air, and the others wrinkled their noses as a foul smell reached them. Will and Merriman, of course, took no notice of the stench. "It was Dark through and through." 

"The War Spells were banned…" 

"And I lifted it because I needed to! By the Circle, what did you want me to do? Let the Earth be overrun? Weapons are weapons, and I'll take any I can." 

Will took a deep breath, trying to reach an inner calm that had been harder and harder to maintain these days. _'Slow down, Will! Remember why you're here. You need to talk to them. Calmly.'_ His hands tightened into fists, and then were, with a conscious effort, loosened. _'Calm down. Calm down. Talk to them.'_

Throughout Will's silent struggle with his temper, Merriman was still speaking. "You can fight them without using the War Spells…" 

"No, I can't, Merriman. Don't you think I tried that, in the beginning? _It's not enough_. They have…ways of getting past that. And they're so many…" 

His voice trailed off, and his head dropped. There was silence for a moment, everyone unsure of what to say. Will looked up again, scanning the area. "This is taking too much time," he muttered, shaking his head. "They could be homing in on the disturbance now. Look, can we continue this conversation somewhere _safer_? The Dark might be sending in reinforcements as we speak." 

"Where do we go?" Bran asked, before Merriman could say anything. He was shaken by the people he had just seen Will utterly massacre, but he was determined to give his friend the benefit of the doubt. 

"I've shielded my home from the Dark. It's got about half-a-year's worth of wards around it." He looked around himself again. "I'll teleport us there." 

*** 

August 14, 2002 

**AN**: Well, back to the short-chapter-format! It's really more of a prelude to the next chapter than anything else. And the next one, by the way, will be an exposition-type chapter – lots of talking, lots of explaining. No action. (sniff) 

Akla tan Sunda'lo really does mean Book of Soldiers. At least, it does in my native tongue. I just messed with the spacing a bit. ^_^ 

Where in Asia do you think Will lives? Actually I haven't quite decided yet. Just that it's in Asia. Wanna cast a vote? 

*diso: means forbidden. I really like making up words, did anyone notice? ^_^ 

*** 

November 20, 2003 

Completed last revision. I'm actually surprised by how many fics I posted and edited today. Posted for my Harry Potter and House Rider fics….and then edited this... 

Took out the Asian living thing (I was going to make him live in Makati) because it'll be a pain trying to explain his living conditions. So, as of now, Will stays in Merry Olde England. Not that he spends _all_ his time there… ^_^ 


	7. A Lot To Say

norah_hunt: thanks for the review. It's always nice to be called godsent, especially when one of your nicknames at school is 'fallen angel'. ^^;; As for Will's 'I live in Asia now'...well, he does live in Asia. And he's still a juvenile, so he can't legally be living alone, now can he? You have to wait until next chapter to see what's up.  
  
Elusive Kat: Yay! Someone actually sent in suggestions! Hurrah! Island countries and their troubles...yup, I think that's where we're headed.  
  
Ashura: I'm always slightly worried whenever I write magic-fics, if I don't explain it, people will say I'm doing stuff that's impossible. Well, magic is, strictly speaking, impossible, but you know...And gang's reactions, coming up next. Um..there will be some slash/yaoi - my first fic with it, I have a friend who's going to kill me - but not purely slash. ^_^  
  
Winds of Flame: 'Course Merry didn't change. He's been the same for thousands of years, he's too petrified to bend! And as for your two options: yup yup, love them too. Although I, in my infinite boredom-during- class, have come up with several other options...  
  
Will: I'm afraid to ask.  
  
I made you cool here, didn't I?  
  
Will: I've become a cynical jerk!  
  
With mad skilz.  
  
Will: True.  
  
Here are the ages, by the way. -Merriman: thousands of years old. We're talking seriously antiquated, here. -Simon: eldest of the teens; he's 18, and about to start university at Oxford. Who's a little genius, then? -Jane: seventeen years old -Bran: seventeen years old -Will: seventeen years old; seeing a pattern here? -Barney: youngest, at fifteen  
  
Will's gonna live in a big city, by the way. Same reasons as you put; besides, Will still has the power to cloud peoples' mind. That comes in mighty handy, lemme tell ya.  
  
Northstar: I'm glad you like Will. I know that the direction I'm taking his changes could be controversial.  
  
Rachel and Sophie W: I do like Japan, but some stuff about it wouldn't be conducive for my plotline. On the other hand, maybe if I can carry this story through to conclusion, we can have them visit Japan and have a whole bunch of anime x-overs! ^_^  
  
Alana Lee: OoB Will thanks you for not being judgemental. DiR Will says that his counterpart is commiting overkill. OoB Will gives DiR Will a raspberry. DiR Will jumps OoB Will. The Wills are now engaged in a dustcloud-fight. You know, in anime, where heads and stuff pop out...  
  
Sorry, random silliness there. ^_^  
  
And Will, as I've mentioned, is going to be a good ol' city-boy.  
  
Mathais-88: Why is everyone so amazed that I've made Will move? They seem less surprised when I make him throw fireballs. ;) Well, it's cool when a plot twists. And thanks!  
  
A-man: Thanks.  
  
Cherrylad: Thanks for the comments on the dialogue, I'm rather anxious about that since I want to make them sound, well, properly British. Not slangy like Americans, not loose-ish like Asians...you know, something like what Brits would really say. I hope I carried it off. The fact that you don't quite agree with where I've put Will (actually, I think it very unlikely too - I just force that over so I can write ^^;;) but still like my story enough to read and review (the review part is particularly rare among ff.net browsers ^_^) is a huge compliment. Thanks. The language of the spells, by the way, was based on German, though I modified (aka mangled) a lot of the words so that it isn't any discernible tongue at all.  
  
Gramarye: I'll take the hug, if you please. ;) Sorry if the next chapter isn't coming out yet...since it's a laying-the-basis type of chapter, I've been sweating over the details. (sigh) Hope to get it up sooner, though.  
  
Caitie: Aww! I'm on a fave list! (blushes) Thanks! 


End file.
